


Clint, meet Matt

by Jonah_Smith_907



Series: Who I am [1]
Category: Daredevil (TV), Hawkeye (Comics), Iron Man (Movies)
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Light Angst, Multi, also some heavy talks I think, and lots of sassy little shits, but in a soft way, some smut, very mild though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-20
Updated: 2018-10-20
Packaged: 2019-08-04 19:40:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16352969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jonah_Smith_907/pseuds/Jonah_Smith_907
Summary: Matt finds a certain archer in his dumpster, and they end up getting drunk together. Eventually Tony joins the party and there's some touching happening.It's very light and fluffy.





	Clint, meet Matt

“Who the hell are you?!” Daredevil stood over the dumpster in the alley behind his building in full costume. 

“Dude, chill.”, the stranger's muffled voice came from _inside_ the dumpster. “I just tried to fight a few men too many.” He freed himself from a vicious banana peel and got up. He was dressed in a lot of purple. He raised a brow at the sight in front of him and stared at the man in red. “Also: what's with the costume?”

“None of your business.”, the vigilante huffed. “But this is my city and you're in it. I don't know you, so you better start talking!”

“Alright fine! But at least let me get out of here. I'm standing in something slimy and disgusting.”

Matt hesitated for a second, but then he nodded and let the man climb out of the container. 

“Okay, so here's the thing.” Clint ran a hand through his hair. “I just went out to get some groceries, because Tony forgot – again – but then I kind of forgot Nat's Shashlyk and had to go back again, _after_ I dropped off the other stuff at the tower. And then there were a few assholes who kept harassing a young man and I was like 'fuck this' and stepped in, but I didn't have my bow and apparently they knew how to fight and then they were suddenly like six people and they threw me in the dumpster.” He scoffed. “Again.”

“... are you talking about the Avenger's Tower??”

“Yeah. Don't you recognize me? I'm Cli- Hawkeye.” The archer smiled proudly and ignored the oozing cut on his arm, which he'd only now noticed. 

“No I don't.” Matt grinned. “I'm blind. But that explains these devices on your ears.”

“Aw, c'mon, are you serious??”

“Yeah. Didn't make sense at first.” He gestured at the wound on the archer's arm. “You wanna get that stitched? I got some stuff up in my flat.”

“Dude, since when do you tell people these things? I thought you were like really suspicious and all.”

“Well I know that you're not lying, I'm tired and you're bleeding.”

“How do you know I'm not lying?”

Matt turned around and started walking towards the fire escape, climbing up the ladder. “I heard your heartbeat.”

For a second Clint froze, but then he muttered “I'm pretty sure that's illegal” and followed the other man.

 

“So you just randomly hear people's heartbeats?”

“Yeah. I smell a lot, too.” The vigilante had taken off his costume and was now sitting on the couch in sweatpants and a T-shit. “My name's Matt by the way.”

“Crazy. I'm Clint.”

“Well. Probably.” He smirked. “And I know who you are.” Matt passed him the first aid kit. “You do that yourself?”

“Yeah, I do.” Clint started working on his cut with smooth motions. Then he asked: “You wanna explain that blind-thing to me?”

“I hear a lot and I smell a lot and I feel a lot.” Matt shrugged. “It's like a radar. Basically.”

“Neat.” The archer finished his stitches and then got up to rummage through a few cupboards. “You got any alcohol?”

“I don't usually drink much.”

“...so where is it?”

“To your left, second shelf from the top.”

More rummaging. A second later: “Dude, that's the cheapest shit ever.”

“It does the job.”

Clint nodded thoughtfully. “Fair enough. Wanna get drunk?”

Matt debated inside of his head for a minute before thinking 'whatever' and nodding: “Yeah, why not.” He'd had a shitty week, Foggy was still angry at him and he was so stressed all the time, he was sure his nerves would snap any second. A little bit of relaxation couldn't be the worst thing. Maybe that would stop his senses from working so damn well for once. And even though he didn't actually trust Clint, he couldn't care less. 

Five minutes later and they were both sitting on the couch, drinking in silence.

That was, until Matt's curiosity took the better of his by now drunk self and he asked: “So what's it like, working with the glorious Avengers?”

“Oh, well, you know, it's not that special, really. I mean I haven't really lived with 'em for very long yet. I had people to protect.” Clint ignored the obvious slur in his voice and took another sip of Whisky. “You know, since I bought their house so it wouldn't be destroyed by some douchebags and now they keep being threatened.”

Matt frowned. “How rich are you??”

“Oh I'm not rich. I stole some money from a dick – with my brother who then kinda betrayed me, but that's okay – and then I used all of it for the house.”

“Ah. Nice.”

“And you? This place is huge, but you still buy the cheapest booze ever.”

“Yeah, this apartment is kind of paid for by my slightly crazy ex-girlfriend.”

“Cool.”

“It's alright.” He didn't say that she was dead, though. None of anybody's business. 

“So uh … you're drunk, too, right?”

“Uh, yeah I am.” Matt huffed out a quiet laugh. “Why?”

“Nothing, I was just thinking of something crazy.”

“... like what?”

“Well you know, since you don't know the Avengers, why don't we go to them to say hello? Still gotta face Nat's wrath so maybe it won't be as bad while drunk.” 

“Yeah, why not. But I ain't getting up from this couch any time soon. Can't really feel all that great with the alcohol numbing my senses.”

“Fair point.”

 

Half an hour – and much more alcohol later – Tony Stark entered Matt's flat, carrying three bottles. 

“So.”, he said and looked around. “This is Daredevil's place?”

“Yup.”, the vigilante spoke up from next to Clint on the couch, waving at the man. “You can call me Matt.”

“Great. Where's your alcohol?”, the genius asked and walked over to the two men. He found a nearly empty bottle of the cheapest Whiskey he'd ever seen and huffed in slight disgust. He took the bottle and threw it into the trash can. “I brought better stuff.” He flopped down on Matt's left side, since the archer was sitting on his right. He had to admit, Murdock really was beautiful. 

“Really?”, Clint grinned. “What did you bring?”

“Two bottles of Vodka and a bottle of Rum.”

“We are going to die.”, Matt snickered and opened the Vodka that was being handed to him by Tony.

“Probably, but it's gonna be a nice death.” The archer took the bottle of Rum and opened it as well, grimacing at the strong taste as he downed the first few swigs.

“Yeah, sure.”, Tony scoffed. 

“Hey Clint.”, Matt suddenly said. “Is Stark really that good-looking?”

Tony nearly choked on a sip of Rum. “I'm sorry??”

“Ugh, sorry.” The vigilante gave the older man a wicked smile. “I just heard a friend of mine talk about you an' he was fascinated. Said you're real pretty.”

Clint broke out into loud laughter, while Tony turned beet-red, still busy with heaving air into his lungs. Matt just smirked at them with something like glee in his eyes.

“Dude, are you always like this?”, Clint then asked and handed him the Vodka. 

“Like what?” Matt took the bottle and took a long sip, then he gasped at the taste. “Honest?”

“Gay.”

This time Matt barked out a laugh, nearly falling off the couch in the process. “Clint, I am Bisexual. That means I can be as gay as I want.”

“Gee, I can't believe my luck.”, Tony said, his composure back up by now. “Both handsome and kinda Bi.”

“Yeah, that must be like a dream come true.” Clint rolled his eyes. 

“It is, actually. I mean have you _seen_ this man's ass?” The billionaire let out a whistle. “Those pants hide nothing.”

“Glad you like it.”, Matt dryly retorted. 

“Oh my god, can you two stop, or do I have to leave so you can make out??” The archer pretended to double over and puke. He took another sip of Vodka when he came back up, ignoring Tony's exaggerated roll of his eyes. He gave the bottle to Matt.

“I'm afraid we will not be able to refrain from being gay tonight, my dear Clint.” Matt took another heavy swig of Vodka, savouring the slight burn in his throat as the liquid made its cool way through his body. “And since we're all drunk, I'm sure there will be some sloppy snogging.”

“I'm not making out with Stark!”, Clint exclaimed and clutched the Rum he'd gotten back from Tony to his chest, as if to protect himself from the gayness, as he brought a small gap between him and the vigilante. The mechanic didn't even answer to that.

Suddenly Matt let out a short, but loud laugh. “I'm gonna be so dead tomorrow.”

“Why?” Tony inched a little closer, until their thighs were touching and deliberately ghosted over the vigilante's hand as he reached for the Vodka. 

Matt gave him a soft smile and leaned his head on the mechanic's shoulder, as he answered: “I'm gonna be hungover and Foggy will probably kill me.”

“Who's Foggy?” Tony put an arm around Matt's shoulder and gently ran a hand through his dark hair, fingernails occasionally scraping over his scalp.

“I have a law-firm with him. Well. Probably not for very long any more, though.” He had to work very hard so he wouldn't show how much it hurt. How much he missed his best friend. “Since he found out I'm Daredevil, he's rather … distant.”

“Well he's definitely missing out on something great.” Clint gave him a soft smile and inched closer again, until their thighs were touching, too. Nothing wrong with flirting with a good-looking man, he thought. No obligation to flirt with the billionaire, too.

Matt snorted. “Right.”

“No, he's right.” Tony leaned over to the right and pressed a light kiss into the other man's hair. “He's missing out on somebody gorgeous.”

“You've known me for like an hour.” Matt's voice was quiet and raspy, there was no real resistance there, nothing to indicate any discomfort. He rather leaned into the touch, craving the closeness, craving the feeling of being loved. Even if it was only physically. 

“I've known you for two!” Clint followed Tony's example and started sucking bruises into the right side of Matt's neck, who let his head fall back at those intimate touches, lips slightly parted. “But I don't think that matters. You're amazing you have two awesome men at your side, who want to shower you with kisses.” He noted with joy how a shiver ran through Matt's body and a content sigh left his dry lips.

“God, you're so beautiful.”, Tony breathed and let his lips explore the exposed skin of Matt's throat and collarbone. He worked his way up to his face, placing one soft kiss onto his jawline after the other, until finally their lips met in a slow and careful kiss.

All the while, Clint had taken Matt's hand in his, interlacing their fingers, while he kept covering the younger man in bruises and breathy kisses, his other hand travelling over his chest and stomach, occasionally ghosting down to his thighs. 

Matt reached out to Tony with his left hand, gently grabbing him by the neck and pulling him closer, while squeezing Clint's hand when the archer found a particularly sensitive spot just above his collarbone. 

If they had had their way, they probably would have continued like this for another three hours, simply kissing and touching and enjoying the incredibly soft intimacy of it all, until they would have fallen asleep together.

But of course they didn't get to do that.

None of them heard the knock on Matt's door, or the soft call of his name; none of them noticed the footsteps to the roof, or the clicking of the doorknob turning. They didn't even notice the slight creak with which the door opened.

The first time they _did_ notice something, was when suddenly there was a banging noise and a very distraught looking man stood in front of them. Tony and Clint immediately went into defence-mode, but Matt held them back with two soft touches. He was barely able to say “Foggy”, when the blond already came storming down the stairs: “What the fu-”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, please tell me in the comments how you liked it.


End file.
